never seen a man cry - 38 spesh lyrics
[intro: benny the butcher]
uh-huh
you know what they say right?
you’re only as good as your last run
and i’m on my best run
so what that tell you about me?
the butcher coming n-gga
[verse 1: benny the butcher]
i’m done doin’ favors, made money, i’m too busy to spend
i need appointments just to thumb through the paper
all foreign’s when we come through in vegas
walk in the house with bricks like i’m ’bout to teach kung fu to neighbors
i was just a dealer, i’m a healer, in my present state
put it in the wrong pot and it came back a crescent shape
meetings with the plug i’m landin’ somewhere in texas late
we spent six hours politickin’ like election day
streets still callin’ me, that silverware talk to me, and tell me it can make my family wealthy as the carnegie’s
city has some work for me, my aunt had a job for me
i told bruh to tell unc’ i wasn’t home if he called for me
these rap n-ggas p-ssy, the dope game violent
i gave these n-ggas tutorials on cocaine science
real n-ggas left, just a few of us, she ride me like a school bus
i f-ck with her but i don’t tell her too much
she know the rapper benny, she don’t know the trapper benny
in that caprice cl-ssic i’m in traffic with a half on benny
in a cell, my right hand put up the bail cash for benny (yeah)
now i’m in court with two lawyers speaking on behalf of benny
[verse 2: conway the machine]
look, count the money and spray the hundreds on the top of the mattress
i just been trapping from the bottom, i never had sh-t
free my homie, he behind the wall for poppin’ his ratchet
take 500 to his baby mama, drop off a package
we was baggin’ 5/8ths burnin’ the top of the plastic
now “look what i became” about to drop, it’s a cl-ssic
rockin’ versace while i’m shopping at saks fifth
get out of pocket, i’ll have your mama shoppin’ for caskets boy
35 hundred for a pair of gl-sses
wearing hermes rarest fabric, b-tches tell me i’m charismatic
i carry ‘matics, i will air and clap it
the fn jacket hit his bullet proof vest and tear in half it
put you in a box and not the spital
my b-tch look like sweetie, my pockets on lizzo
we dollar boxes, split the profit down the middle
my young boy kimba, he shot it off the dribble motha f-cka
[verse 3: spesh]
don’t let me show you what this 4 pound do
stand point blank range, let a close round flew
your folks gon’ get smoked if they go ’round you
like a breakfast and lunch spot, they get a close round too, huh
all i had was a stable block, independent
you got hot from a label, i made my label hot
got 10 bricks on a table top
they see me to put bread on the table, i’m like the bagel shop
i meet a plug, then i make ’em pop
and if he don’t appreciate what i make him then i’ma take his spot
i gave four plugs fatal shots
put four lines on the ground like i’m tryin’ to create a box
i’m the n-gga that the haters watch
i’m connected like lego blocks or the line to the cable box
and i ain’t never been afraid of cops
in prison, george had the same vision that diego got
you ain’t never seen a cell block
used to hide when we saw 12, now we drive v12 drops
the n-gga cried then his barrel dropped
that’s how a stand up guy transform to a female cop
my first charge, i was sh-ll shocked
my ole b-tch called the police on me, had me in jail hot
they found an ounce in my mailbox
called an f for my o with my x like i’m trying to spell fox, hum
Random Song Lyrics :
- crick crick - la fouine lyrics
- dancehall king - shatta wale lyrics
- fuori dal gioco - nick sick lyrics
- oh mercy - stu garrard lyrics
- tendras que aguantarte (version norteña) - luis coronel lyrics
- интро (intro) - grebz lyrics
- b-eryz - blackeryz lyrics
- plage privée - eech lyrics
- her - dåm (no) lyrics
- game over - shadbeatz lyrics